Remember
by EmpressVoodoo
Summary: Summary: Rachel seeks to comfort an old friend and colleague after his daughter's suicide. Soon after arriving, strange things start to happen, and she wonders if she is losing her mind, or if there is more to the tragic death than her friend has told her.
1. Chapter 1

God, her head hurt. She brought her fingers to her forehead and massaged slowly. She then opened her eyes looking down at the brighly polished linoleum floor. The glare of the equally bright fluorescent lights glaring off the tiles sent more pain shooting through her skull. A bell rang, and she turned toward the sound. A couple in their late teens entered through a glass door, arms wrapped around each other and grinning like fools. Where was she? Looking around she saw the metal shelves of food and from above the shelves she could see the glass of the cold cases beyond. A convenience store. How did I get here she wondered, as another wave of pain rolled through her head. She gasped grabbing at the sides of her head. Something small, hard and plastic in her right hand slapped against her temple. She pulled the hand away and saw a bottle of Ibuprofen. How appropriate, she thought ironically to herself, considering she didn't remember picking the bottle up.

"Hey lady, you gonna buy that or what?" A gruff voice startled her out of her reverie. She turned and saw the middle-aged balding clerk, with about three days of dark growth on his three chins, behind the Plexiglas counter watching her with a mix of irritation and confusion. Slowly she approached the counter and placed the bottle on the metal ledge protruding from the window.

The clerk grabbed the bottle and checked the price. "That'll be $3.85. Cash or charge?"

"Cash." She replied, reaching down to where her purse should have been. When she didn't feel it, she glanced down then to her shoulder, seeing neither purse nor strap. Great, she thought, this is just what I need. The clerk eyed her again. Sighing, she reached into her coat pockets and came up empty. Untying the belt, she opened her coat to check her slacks. And saw the blood. Streaked down her blouse and onto her pants. The clerk saw too.

"What the hell? Lady, what happened to you?"

Fresh pain blossomed behind her eyes, and his visage blurred.

"Lady, can you hear me?"

She heard the laughter of the young couple somewhere behind her. Tears swam in her eyes.  
A final stab of pain assailed her, and looking back at the clerk, she fainted.

Derek Raine swept throught the hospital sliding doors, his coat flapping from the departing breeze, hair damp from the drizzling rain. Behind him, Nick Boyle ran a hand through his own dampened hair. They approached the registration desk, where a young woman sat, talking on the phone. She raised a hand to indicate she would be with them as soon as the call finished.

"So what happened exactly?" Nick asked Derek as they stood by the desk, waitinng.

"All I know is Rachel collapsed in a convience store a few hours ago. The officer I talked to didn't go into any specific details. Just that she'd been brought here and gave them my name and number to call."

"Why did she come to Rose Creek? She working a case?"

"No. An old friend and colleague just lost a daughter to suicide. She came for the funeral and to offer him comfort."

Nick shook his head. "Man that's rough."

The nurse cleared her throat behind them. "How can I help you?"

"I am looking for a patient who was admitted earlier this evening, Rachel Corrigan."

"Derek Rayne?" A dark-haired man in his mid-thirties who had was seated in the lobby just across from them stood and approached, hand outstretched. Derek took it warily.

"Yes. And you are?"

"Detective Sal Lazlo. We spoke on the phone."

"Yes. Tell me detective, what happened to Dr. Corrigan? On the phone you said she collapsed? Have you spoken to the doctors? What was the cause?"

Lazlo turned slightly gesturing toward the lobby chairs. "Why don't we sit down?"

"This is not going to be good news." Nick said, looking to Derek, who nodded his assent before the three men moved to the lobby and sat at empty adjouning chairs.

The detective began. "One of my officers responded to a call of a woman injured at a convenience store. When he arrived, he found your colleague on the floor in front of the cash register, blood streaked down the front of her blouse. He called for an ambulance and she was brought here."

Derek's expressed became alarmed. "She was injured. How?"

Lazlo shook his head. "That's the strange thing, at least one of them, about this. She has no wounds. The hospital lab took a blood sample when she arrived to rule out poisoning or overdose. They didn't find either, but what they did find is that she has A-blood."

Derek and Nick both looked confused. Derek spoke up. "What does this have to do with what happened?"

"The blood found on her clothes is O+."

The two colleagues shared a shocked stare and then turned back to the detective. Derek again responded. "It wasn't her blood."

"Then whose was it?" Nick asked.

"We don't know." Lazlo shrugged. "And apparently neither does Dr. Corrigan. I spoke to her about twenty minutes before you arrived, and she claims to have no memory of how the blood got there, or even how she arrived at the convenience store."

"She has amnesia?" Derek asked.

"That, or something to hide." Lazlo replied.

Nick bristled and moved toward the detective. "Just what are you implying? You think Rachel killed someone? That's not possible." Derek placed a hand on the younger man's arm. They exchanged a brief look, then Nick sat back.

Lazlo gave him a sympathetic look. "I know you don't want to believe that, but how else could someone else's blood have gotten on her clothes? At the very least, she's injured someone."

Derek glanced to the registration desk, then back to Lazlo. "Has anyone come in injured with O+ blood?"

The detective shook his head. "Not here. Were canvassing all local clinics and the other city hospitals to see if anyone has shown up there."

Derek gave the man a hard stare. "I'm sure there is an explanation for what happened tonight. I know Rachel Corrigan very well and find it hard to believe she attacked and possibly killed someone without good reason and then just left the scene."

"You think the amnesia is for real?" Lazlo asked.

"Memory loss is not uncommon after traumatic events. Are you holding her for anything?"

"No. No case without a body or a complaining witness."

"So she's free to leave?"

The detective nodded. "As soon as the doctors clear her. Of course, I'll need her to stay in town until we can determine what did happen tonight."

Derek nodded back. "Of course. We are staying the Thorn Creek Inn. Rooms 26 and 27C."

The men stood and Derek and Lazlo shared another handshake. "Thank you for your cooperation Dr Rayne."

"As I said, there is an explanation for what happened tonight and we are just as anxious to discover it as you are so we can return to San Francisco."

Derek and Nick watched Lazlo exit the double glass doors. Then they returned to the desk. "Can you page the doctor on Rachel Corrigan's case?" he asked the woman.

She nodded and picked up the phone, punching the intercom button. "Dr. Forrester, please come to the ER desk. Dr. Forrester to the ER desk. She replaced the receiver. "He should be here shortly."

"Thank you."

"You think Rachel really hurt someone?" Nick asked, studying Derek's concerned face.

"I don't think so, but we're going to have to retrace all her movements since she arrived, see who she's talked to, where she's been. Someone somewhere has an answer to that question. And if we can't help Rachel remember, we are going to find them."


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel fiddled with the hospital wristband as the doctor spoke.  
"We've performed an MRI as well as a CAT scan, and we haven't been able to determine what happened to you, but we can tell you what didn't happen."

She glanced up at him. "So, what isn't wrong with me?"

"You don't have a concussion or brain bleed. You didn't suffer a stroke or heart attack. We'll study the test results some more to see if we can find other possible causes for your collapse."

Rachel gave an exasperated sigh.

"I know how frustrating this must be..." the doctor began

"You think? And I thought I was the psychiatrist. When can I leave?"

"We'd like to keep you overnight for observation."

"And I'd like a stiff drink." Rachel countered. "Look Dr," Rachel glanced at his name tag. "Forester, obviously nothing is seriously wrong with me, so I'd like to leave as soon as possible. Did you contact my colleague?"

The doctor stiffened. "Yes. He's on his way."

"Good." She replied, throwing the blankets aside and scooting off the bed. She walked toward the bathroom. "Let me know as soon as he arrives." The doctor continued staring. "What?" she snapped.

"I would strongly recommend you stay here tonight."

"Your professional opinion is duly noted." She replied, not trying to hide the sarcasm in her voice. Nodding toward the bathroom she added. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"Of course." Came the clipped reply. Rachel walked into the bathroom and closed the door on the doctor's less than thrilled expression. Through the door, she heard him being paged on the PA system and then his footsteps retreating. Finally alone, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked haggard and exhausted. What the hell had happened to her tonight? Why couldn't she remember? She hated feeling out of control, and from the time she'd joined the Legacy, she'd felt that way more times than she could count. She twisted the cold water spigot and splashed the cool liquid onto her face. The detective didn't believe her. He hadn't come right out and said it, but she knew. She'd been a psychiatrist long enough to recognize when someone thought they were being lied to. The sound of the hospital room door opening and subsequent footsteps broke into her thoughts. Drying her face, she pulled open the bathroom door, preparing for round two with Dr. Forester. She stopped short when she saw Nick standing there, a handled paper bag in his right hand. She smiled sheepishly. "Hey Nick."

He grinned back. "Can't let you go anywhere can we?" He lifted the bag. "Clothes. Derek and I stopped by your hotel room on the way."

She reached for the bag. "Thanks." She retreated to the bathroom. "So where is Derek?" she asked through the partially closed door.

"Talking to the doctor, making sure it's okay to take you back to the hotel."

Rachel emerged from the bathroom dressed in jeans and a long sleeved black T-shirt, the hospital gown wadded in her hands. "Trust me," she said tossing it onto the bed. "It's more than okay."

Nick pushed the door open with a flourish. "So what are we waiting for?"

_

Blackness...  
Blackness surrounding her...  
A dark figure looming above her...  
Struggling, fighting...

Rachel woke with a start and sat up, her heart pounding. The last vestige of the dream dancing around her consciousness. A slight pounding behind her eyes, she closed them and concentrated, trying to bring the images back into focus. All she got for her efforts was more pounding. "Damn!" she muttered, glancing to the nightstand. The large red lights of the hotel clock red 5:17. Knowing she wouldn't get back to sleep, she shoved the covers aside and rose. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since early yesterday. Figuring she had at least a couple hours before Derek rose and that they would be serving breakfast in the hotel restaurant, she dressed and headed downstairs. If she couldn't fill the holes in her memory, at least she could fill the one in her stomach.

Two and a half hours later, her stomach full from an omelet breakfast, and her mind clearer from caffeine, Rachel sat with Derek and Nick at the small table in Derek's hotel room, going over the events of the previous day.

"I know I stopped at Richard's. I remember ringing the doorbell and the housekeeper inviting me in."

"What do you remember after that?" Derek asked.

Rachel's forehead wrinkled in thought. "Nothing until I was in the convenience store."

"What about your friend, Richard?" Nick piped up. "Have you talked to him since you were admitted to the hospital?"

"No. But I'm sure if I was acting irrationally, he would have noticed. And I'm sure he wouldn't have let me leave."

"Still," Added Derek. "We should speak to him, find out what happened while you were at his home. Maybe he noticed some behavior that seemed out of character, but not alarmingly so."

"You're right." Rachel agreed, digging through her purse for her cell phone. "I'll call him, see when would be a good time for him to talk to us."

While Rachel spoke to Richard, Derek and Nick made a quick run to the hotel restaurant for coffees of their own. As they re-entered the room, they heard an alarmed gasp from the bathroom, and Rachel rushed out, pale and shaking. Nick ran to her and helped her to the bed.

"What happened? Are you ok?" He asked, kneeling before her, scanning for any apparent injuries. Derek set the coffees on the nightstand and kneeled next to Nick.

"I'm okay. Physically at least."

"Tell me what happened." Derek demanded.

"I went in to use the bathroom and when I was washing my hands I looked up into the mirror. And my face was bruised, my nose bleeding and there was a bruise around my throat."

"That would be a shock to the system." Nick said.

"That wasn't all." Rachel continued. "The image placed its-my hand to the mirror and asked me for help."

Nick and Derek looked at each other. "Doppelganger?" Nick asked.

"Let's hope not." Derek replied. "Doppelgangers are harbingers of death."

"Well", Nick countered, "Rachel did have a close call last night. Think its just running late?"

Rachel smiled. She loved Nick's quirky sense of humor, it had helped her through many a rough Legacy case. "I think it's just my mind's way of coping with what happened and letting me know the answer is in my mind somewhere."

Standing, Derek said, "Speaking of answers, what did your friend say?"

Also standing, Rachel replied, "His first appointment is at 9:30. He can talk to us right now, if we hurry."

The last to stand, Nick answered, "So what are we waiting for?"

As they pulled into the circular driveway, Rachel stared at the Corinthian columns framing the porch of Richard Hamilton's home and tried to remember the last time she was here. Pulling up in the same driveway, ringing the bell and being ushered in by the departing housekeeper. Greeting Richard in the living room... then nothing until the convience store. Her forehead twinged, and she rubbed it. Nick looked at her, concern on his face. She gave him a small smile. Derek stopped the car and switched off the ignition. He looked at Rachel.

"Anything?" he asked.

"No, nothing I didn't already remember."

He opened his door. "Let's hope your friend can shed some light on what happened."

Rachel nodded in agreement and stepped out her open door, courtesy of Nick. "Thanks."

"No problem."

They stepped onto the porch and Derek rang the bell. Richard Hamilton himself answered the door, in a blue shirt his tie only half tied, hair askew. "Come on in, you got here a little sooner than I expected. Hence." He smiled, pointing to his tie.

Derek reached out his hand. "My name is Derek Rayne." Shaking Richard's hand he turned to Nick. And this is Nick Boyle."

"Pleased to meet you." Nick said, taking Richard's hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Richard." Rachel said, moving forward to pull him into an embrace. "I am so sorry to lay this on you with Allison's loss still so fresh."

He pulled back, a sad smile on his face. "I'm just sorry this happened to you." He motioned his guests toward the living room. They followed and each took a seat on a large sofa. Richard sat on a similar sofa across from them. "Now, how can I help you with this?"

"I need you to tell me what happened after I arrived here?" Rachel said.

"You don't remember?"

"Nothing after your housekeeper let me in."

Surprise colored his face. "You came in, we talked in the foyer a moment, and then we came in here and discussed the funeral and looked at some old pictures."

"How long was Rachel here?" Derek asked.

"Let's see." Richard pulled a graceful hand through the long black strands on his forehead, flipping them from the left to the right. "About 45 minutes."

"And nothing unusual happened while she was here?"

"No."

Derek turned to Rachel and saw her staring at the mantle of the fireplace, her brow crinkled in confusion. He turned to see what she was looking at and saw nothing but pictures and memorabilia "Rachel?" he prompted. She continued staring at the mantle.

Nick gave her a gentle nudge. "Rach?"

She started, and then looked to Nick, then to Derek. "Sorry. Where were we?"

Richard stood. "I was just telling Derek that you were here for about 45 minutes, then you left. And nothing unusual happened while you were here." He glanced at his watch. "I hate to rush you, but I need to get setup for my appointment. Sorry I couldn't be of more help."

Rachel stood and walked over to him and pulled him into another hug. "Thank you for seeing us. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." Richard walked them to the foyer, and Derek didn't miss Rachel's glance to the mantle as they left the living room. When they reached the door, Derek reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. He handed it to Richard.

"If you happen to remember anything, call me, my cell number is on the card. Thank you again for your time."

Richard smiled at Rachel. "Anything for a friend."

As the door closed behind them, Derek looked at Rachel. "What was that about back there?"

"What?" she asked.

"The way you were staring at the mantle."

Rachel let out a sigh. "I know this is going to sound crazy considering I don't remember anything, but it felt like there was something missing."

"It looked pretty full to me." Nick said, remembering the photos, knick-knacks and awards that covered the top of the mantle.

"I know. But something about it just wasn't right. I can't explain how I know it, but I do."

Derek looked back at the closed front door. "Maybe we should pay another visit later, see if anything comes to you."

Rachel nodded. "What now?" she asked, opening the passenger side door of the car and climbing in.

"We do some research on recent crimes in the area. See if we come up with anything similar to what happened to you?" Derek replied, as he climbed into the driver side and closed the door.

"Great. Except we don't know what happened to me."

"We know you are a woman that you were alone after you left here and you were attacked. We start with that and see where it leads us."

From the back seat came a low chuckle. Nick leaned into the front of the car. "Looks like a long day. Anyone but me gonna need some more coffee?"


	3. Chapter 3

Forty five minutes later, coffees in hand, the trio strode into the hotel lobby. Just before the reception desk, Rachel stopped short, reaching in to dig around in her purse.

"Great, I forgot my cell. You guys head up without me. I'm going to see if I have any messages at the front desk, grab my phone from my room, and freshen up a bit."

Derek gave a small nod. "See you shortly." Then he and Nick headed up to his room.

Rachel approached the front desk. "Excuse me?" she asked the clerk, whose back was to her as he filled the room slots with their corresponding mail. He turned and gave her a grin as he walked to the desk.

"How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if I had any messages, Rachel Corrigan room 27C."

He turned back to the slots and pulled from hers an 8x10 manila envelope. "No phone messages, but someone did send this." he said, sliding the envelope across the desk to her.

"Thanks." Rachel grabbed the envelope and headed to the elevator. She hit the up button, and as she waited, tore open the top of the envelope. From inside she pulled out a copy of the program for the funeral, Allison's picture on the front with birth and death dates. The door dinged open and she stepped into the elevator, opening the program and reading the inside. She turned back to the front page, to the face of a girl she'd known almost since birth. What a waste, she thought to herself, what could have happened to change the vibrant, happy girl she'd known enough that she would take her own life? The doors opened on her floor and Rachel moved down the hall to her room. She used the key card to open the door, and almost immediately located her cell phone on the bedside table.

She walked into the bathroom, switched on the light, turning toward the mirror. Pain knifed through her head, and in the mirror she saw Allison, with the same injuries she'd seen on herself that morning. Allison reached her hand toward Rachel and whispered the words "Help me." More pain assailed her as the image in the mirror blurred, twisted and was replaced by another. Allison, eyes angry and tear-filled, fighting with someone Rachel couldn't see.

"No more, I won't let you do this to me anymore!" she screamed at other person. "You think you've gotten away with it, well your wrong. I'm pregnant." she stated. "I'm going to have it tested. And what do you think the results are going to be?" she challenged. "I'll tell you, it will show that its yours, and everyone will know what you've been doing to me for years. You'll rot in prison for the rest of your life."

"No!" an angry voice shouted in response. The dark figure lunged toward Allison, grabbing her by the throat and throwing her down to the floor. Rachel felt herself fly backward, landing on the bathroom floor, the feeling of hands around her neck. She felt it as the figure ripped at Allison's clothes, as he forced himself inside her, his hands again at her throat. She stared up at the mirror, seeing Allison's face as the figure raped and choked her. "Help me." she rasped. Pain exploded in Rachel's head. And everything went black.

_

In Derek's room, Nick had the laptop set up on the table. In a few moments he was linked in to the Legacy's mainframe.

"So where do we start?"

Derek paced slowly behind him. "I want to start with Richard Hamilton. There is something about the man I just don't trust."

Nick looked back at him. "I thought I was the only one. I think he knows something more than he's telling us. And then there's the stitches."

Derek stopped, looking at Nick. "Stitches?"

Nick nodded. "In his forehead up in his hairline. His hair is dark so they're harder to see, but he has a line of them there. I saw them when he flipped his hair over."

Derek pondered this for a moment. "You're right. He is hiding something. I think he knows what happened to Rachel, but is afraid to come forward for some reason."

Nick turned back to the laptop and started typing. "Let's see what we can find on the good doctor."

"I'm going to go check on Rachel, she should have been here by now."

"Okay. Hopefully I'll have something when you guys get back."

The dark figure was over her. She could feel his hands on her throat, the warmth of his breath in her face. "Rachel." He whispered. His hands tightened.

"No." She screamed, thrashing around in a manic attempt to escape.

"Rachel, it's Derek, stop!"

The familiar cadence and accent of Derek's voice permeated her nightmare and Rachel's eyes flew open. "Derek?" She looked up into her Precept's concerned face. Slowly, her head aching she raised herself into a sitting position and looked around. The bathroom. They were in the hotel room bathroom. What had happened? She moved to stand, but Derek placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you sure you're alright to move?"

Other than her throbbing head, Rachel could feel no other injuries. "Yes." With Derek's help she stood and he lead her to the bed where he sat down next to her.

"What happened?"

"I came up here, saw my phone on the bed, went into the bathroom..."she winced as pain shot across her forehead, "then nothing until just now when you found me."

Derek stood and began the same slow pacing he had done earlier in his room. "We need to start from when we arrived back at the hotel. Tell me everything."

"I went to the desk for my messages. I didn't have any calls but I received an envelope. While I waited for the elevator, I opened it. It was a program for Allison's funeral services. I continued to look at it while I was in the elevator. I was thinking how sad and wasteful it was, and what could have happened that made her feel that suicide was the only way out. I left the elevator, came into the room, found my phone there," she pointed to the bedside table, "and went into the bathroom to freshen up." A sliver of pain sliced across her forehead, and flashes of memory came through: _Allison's reflection in the mirror, her admission of pregnancy, the rape and strangulation..._When she came back, Derek was kneeling in front of her.

"What just happened?" He asked.

"I remember." She answered. "I remember what happened in the bathroom." She related the flashes to him. "I don't know how, but I know it's connected to what happened to me yesterday." She stood. "Have you guys started your research yet?"

"Nick is working on it as we speak."

"I have some more to add to it. I need to see if I can get a copy of the autopsy report on Allison Hamilton. I need to confirm if she was pregnant, and see if it is possible to get a DNA report on the fetus."

"What to you think that will tell us?"

"The identity of the man who was sexually abusing her. Once we know that, I think we'll also know who attacked me."


	4. Chapter 4

Nick was typing furiously on the computer when Derek returned, Rachel in tow. He turned to greet them, saw Rachel's pale face, and frowned.

"What happened to you?" He asked.

Rachel relayed the the episode in the bathroom, and her plans to visit the coroner.

"If I were you, I'd ask her father." He replied, his tone caustic.

Rachel frowned. "Why would you say that?"

He told her about the stitches in Richard's forehead.

"Are you saying you think Richard did this to me?"

Nick and Derek exchanged looks.

"You do don't you?" Rachel was incredulous. "There is no way. I've known Richard for most of my career. He couldn't hurt a fly."

"So, it's just a coincidence he happens to be injured at the same time you show up in a convenience store with blood all over you?" Nick challenged.

"You don't know when he was injured. That could have happened before I got here." She countered, temper rising.

"I have to agree with Nick," Derek interjected. "It's too much of a coincidence to be dismissed. I'm going to go to the police station and talk with Detective Lazlo. See if they've had any luck identifying the person whose blood was on your clothes." He looked to Rachel. "Do you happen to know Richard's blood type?"

Rachel glared back at him, and ran a hand through her hair. "I can see you two have already made up your minds. In answer to your question, no I don't know his blood type. But even if it matches, that doesn't mean he's the one who attacked me."

"I guess we'll find out then, won't we?" Derek said, grabbing the car keys from his coat pocket. "Nick," he said turning to the scowling younger man, "go with Rachel to the coroner, see what you can find out there about Allison Hamilton's death, while I see if I can find out the identity of the person whose blood was on Rachel's clothes." He nodded curtly to them both and headed out the door.

Nick stood up from the computer, and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. "We'll have to agree to disagree about your friend. For now, let's go find out what we can about his daughters death and pregnancy." He opened the room door and gestured for her to exit.

Grabbing her own jacket and purse, Rachel walked past him into the hall, and pulled her cell from the purse. "I'd better call first, to let them know we're coming and why."

"Detective Lazlo please." Derek asked the uniformed officer at the desk. While he waited for the officer to inform the detective he was waiting, Derek scanned the station. Wooden and metal desks, lined up in rows, plainclothes and uniformed officers on phones, sitting at their desks talking with victims and perps. He looked to the bench behind him where a woman sat, in a short leather skirt and low cut red blouse, ample cleavage pouring out the top. Obviously a prostitute. She curled a lock of long black hair around the index finger of one hand and with the other lifted a lollipop to her lips. A pink tongue snaked out and caressed the candy lasciviously. She winked and smiled at him. Derek gave her a small, nervous smile and turned back to face the desk.

"Hey, baby." Came a voice from behind. Derek kept his eyes forward, ignoring her. A loud smacking sound followed. He cleared his throat, hoping he could ignore her into silence. "You seem tense. Come here," she purred, patting the empty spot on the bench next to her, "let Lana work out some of those kinks." When this didn't illicit a response, she stood and moved to stand behind him. Her hands slid up his back and gripped his shoulders, beginning to massage. Derek scanned the precinct again, searching frantically for Lazlo or the desk sergeant. Neither were anywhere in sight. "Yeah baby, your wound up real tight, but Lana can fix that." One hand moved from his shoulders to caress his buttock. She leaned in close, her breath hot in his ear. Derek closed his eyes and prayed Lazlo would appear when he opened them.

"Dr. Rayne." In answer to his prayers, He heard Lazlo's voice as he approached the desk. Derek sent up a silent thanks and opened his eyes to see the detective motion him through the swinging doors of the desk and shake his hand.

"Take as long as you need sugar, I'll be waiting." Called Lana as the two men moved toward Lazlo's office.

"Sounds like you made a friend." Lazlo said, and smiled.

"Unintentionally, unfortunately." Derek replied.

"I'll see to it she's processed before you leave."

"Thank you."

Lazlo opened the door to his office and the two men walked in and sat, Lazlo behind his desk and Derek in one of the chairs in front of it.

"How can I help you, Dr. Rayne?"

"I was wondering if you'd had any luck identifying the person whose blood was on Dr. Corrigan's clothes."

"Your timing is impeccable. I just got the findings from the lab about 10 minutes ago." He lifted the top folder out of the tray on the corner of his desk, and flipped it open. He read silently for a few moments, his face taking on a bemused look. He looked up at Derek. "It looks like our perp is in the DNA database. One Evan Hamilton."

Derek's eyes widened. "Hamilton? As in a relation to Richard Hamilton?"

"As in brother of Richard Hamilton." Lazlo confirmed.

"Rachel never mentioned him having a brother."

Lazlo shrugged. "She probably never knew him. According to the file, he's been a patient at Longwood since he was 16."

"Longwood?" Derek asked.

"It's a mental institution, excuse me, a 'care' facility a few miles outside town. He was sent there after he murdered his parents and seriously injured his brother on their 16th birthday."

"Their birthday? They were twins?" Derek's mind was racing.

"Identical twins." Lazlo continued perusing the file. "But unless its possible for ghosts to leave their blood at crime scenes, he's not our guy. Says here he hung himself with his bed sheets about nine years ago."

"Then that means..." Derek began.

"The blood belongs to his only living relative and twin, Rachel's good friend Richard."

_

Nick and Rachel drove back from the coroner's in uneasy silence, broken only when they passed through a drive-thru to pick up dinner. The trip to the coroner did not yield the answers Rachel had hoped for. A review of the coroner's records, the body itself now gone to the funeral home, showed what she already knew; Allison had driven her Jeep into a large tree going 45 mph without a seat belt. Even if there had been injuries before, they would have been hard if not impossible to find with the damage this had done. Asked about the pregnancy, the coroner said DNA testing was done, as was usual in cases like these, but the results were still pending. Tired and discouraged, the pair parked the car and headed up to the room in the same silence they had traveled in. Once they were in the room getting ready to eat, Nick broke the ice.

"I guess we're back to square one."

Rachel looked up from her food. "With evidence of physical trauma before the accident yes. But we still have the coroner's DNA results. Hopefully they will tell us something useful."

"Let's hope Derek had more luck with Lazlo."

"Yeah, let's hope." They continued eating in silence. Once he'd polished off his burger and fries, Nick returned to the laptop.

"I'm going to start where I left off. See what more I can find out about your friend."

Rachel sighed. "I don't suppose you're ready to believe he had nothing to do with this."

Nick smiled wanly. "No I don't suppose." And turned back to the computer screen.

Rachel's phone rang. She pulled it from the front pocket of her discarded jacket and flipped it open. "Rachel Corrigan."

"Dr. Corrigan." Came the response. It was the coroner. "This is your lucky day. Our lab just returned the DNA results on the fetus."

"Really? What do they say?" Rachel asked, sitting up. A twinge of pain crossed her forehead.

From the table, Nick looked up. She mouthed 'it's the coroner' to him and he nodded, turning back to his work. "I see." He heard her reply as he waited for the internet site he entered to download. Then he heard the phone click. "So, do the results tell us anything useful." He asked as he watched the page load. Pain exploded across his right temple and he hit the ground, dazed. With slowly dimming vision, he looked up to see Rachel standing above him, the hotel phone in her hand. Then everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek and Lazlo returned to the hotel room to find a bleeding, unconscious Nick and a missing Rachel. Derek kneeled over Nick, grabbed his shoulders and gave a gentle shake.

"Nick, can you hear me? It's Derek." Getting no response, he shook Nick again. In response he got a groan and flutter of eyelids. Lazlo, having run to the bathroom to get a wet cloth, kneeled down next to Derek and placed the cloth to Nick's bleeding temple. He blinked a couple of times, then opened his eyes and looked up at Derek.

"W-where's Rachel?" he asked, staring from one man to the other.

"We were hoping you could tell us." Derek responded. "'Was she abducted by the person who did this to you?"

Nick propped himself up on his elbows, and gave a quick glance around the room. "She _was _the person who did this to me."

Derek's eyes widened. "Rachel attacked you? Why?"

Putting a steadying hand on the chair he fell from, Nick slowly hoisted himself up into it. Once settled, he took the cloth from the detective and placed it to his temple. "I don't know. One minute everything was fine, the next my head felt like it was going to explode, I was on the ground, and she was standing above me.

Grabbing one of the other chairs, Derek sat in front of Nick. "Tell me everything." Equally interested in Nick's story, Lazlo grabbed the remaining chair and sat to his right.

"We came back from the coroner's office." He began, glancing over to Rachel's wrappers on the bed. "Rachel was bummed. She couldn't find any evidence of foul play in the accident, and the DNA results from the fetus hadn't come in yet. We'd stopped for food and just finished eating. I went back on the computer to look for more info on Hamilton, and Rachel's phone rang. I looked over my shoulder at her and she mouthed that the coroner was on the phone. I went back to my search, she talked for about a minute, then hung up. I asked her what she'd said, and the next thing I knew I was on the floor, my ears were ringing and she was standing over me with the hotel phone in her hand."

"Did she say anything?" Derek asked.

Nick shook his head, then winced. "No. But there was something strange about her eyes. I can't remember exactly what, though."

Lazlo stood. "Come on, we're taking you to the emergency room. You may have a concussion."

Nick started to protest, but Lazlo held up a hand to silence him. "You don't get to argue with a cop." He took hold of Nick's arm and helped him to stand. Derek rose from his chair, taking Nick's other arm. And together they helped the injured man out of the hotel.

In the car on the way to the hospital, and during the subsequent wait in the ER, Derek and Lazlo told Nick what they had learned about Richard Hamilton's twin brother, Evan. After the ER nurse had bandaged his head and left, Nick looked to Derek. "You thinking possession?"

Lazlo looked at Nick like he'd just grown another head. "Possession? As in _The Exorcist _possessed? You're kidding, right?" The somber expressions that greeted him told him they were not.

Derek responded. "Actually, I was thinking something a little less supernatural."

"Like?"

"Like maybe Evan Hamilton wasn't the one who died."

Lazlo looked skeptical. "I'm all for natural explanations, but what your suggesting is a little to the left of it. If its what I'm thinking."

"If you're thinking that Evan Hamilton murdered his brother, made it look like a suicide, then escaped from the hospital and picked up his life where it left off, then you're right."

Lazlo shook his head. "Not possible. There are orderlies, security and cameras all over that place. No way he could have killed his brother without someone knowing."

"Not now." Derek countered. "But nine years ago he could have. Cameras have only been present in patient's rooms for the last five years. Hamilton's death was nine years ago."

"Okay, assuming he was able to do it quietly enough that no one heard, do you really think he could have spent the last nine years posing as his brother, a prominent psychiatrist, without someone noticing?" Lazlo asked, his expression still skeptical.

"He was institutionalized for well over a decade, talking to all manner of psychologists and psychiatrists, not to mention he had access to all sorts of reading materials."

Nick nodded, replying. "Yeah. He bides his time, listening to the doctors, reading up on the latest in mental health. Then when the opportunity arrives, he offs his brother, walks out of the hospital and becomes him."

Lazlo let out a short laugh. "You're ghost story has more credibility. I still maintain someone had to notice the good doctor was not the good doctor. Not just because of the education or lack thereof, but personality traits. He couldn't have emulated his brother perfectly because he hadn't been in his presence for more than half hour intervals for 15 years."

"Maybe someone did notice." Derek responded. "Maybe Richard's daughter noticed. And maybe that had a lot to do with why she died."

"And why Rachel was attacked." Nick cut in. "Maybe that's why he attacked her. He said something or did something that was out of character for the man she knew. She calls him on it, he freaks, attacks her, and she fights back in self-defense."

Lazlo looked to the two men. "I guess the best way to test your theory is to pay a visit to the good doctor. Or his brother. Whoever is currently living in his house."

It was time to finish it. He thought he'd ended it with the car accident. Gotten rid of her and the evidence to boot, but he was wrong. And he was going to pay. She would see to it.  
As the cab pulled into the circular drive, she stared again at the columns framing the front door, remembering what had happened behind that door. All of it. Tossing some money and a quick thanks up to the cab driver, she got out and walked up to the door. She could just walk in, she knew where the spare key was hidden, but that would look suspicious seeing as she didn't live here, at least not now. So she knocked and waited. Twenty seconds later, the door was opened and Magdalena greeted her.

"Senora Corrigan, what a pleasant surprise. Come in, quick, get out of the rain."

"Thank you." She walked in and removed her coat, handing it to the housekeeper. Magdalena took it, staring intently into her eyes. "Yes?" She asked, a hint of irritation in her voice.

"N-nothing." she stammered, turning to hang the coat on the rack next to the door. "Senor Hamilton is in his office. Have a seat in the living room and I'll let him know you're here."

She'd go to the living room, but she wasn't sitting. This wasn't a social call. As she entered the room, she glanced up to the fireplace mantle. And saw it. She walked over, picked it up. A blue crystal unicorn on metal base with "To My Princess, Love Daddy" engraved into the metal. Footsteps sounded behind her.

"Rachel?" A confused voice asked. "This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"You put it back." She stated, ignoring his question. "You moved it after my first visit. But now its back."

A loud sigh. "Yes. I knew you'd remember eventually. I'd just hoped it wouldn't be so soon." He moved farther into the room, his hand slipping into his trouser pocket and palming the syringe hidden there. "And Rachel? I have something to tell you. I'm not Richard."

"Yes I know." she replied, turning to face him. He stepped back in shock staring into bright green eyes ablaze with white-hot rage. "I'm not Rachel."

Evan Hamilton stared, stunned, into the eyes of his deceased niece. "Allison?"

She gave a wry smile. "Surprised? You're not the only one who can come back from the dead, Uncle Evan." She nodded to the pocket that held the needle and his hand. "And you won't need that. It won't work, not on me anyway. All you'll do is put the good doctor to sleep and make controlling her body that much easier." She reached into the pocket of Rachel's coat and pulled out the gun she'd taken from Nick after she struck him. "This however, will stop you dead in your tracks. Literally."

He pulled his hand from the pocket and let it drop to his side. "So you know." It was a statement, not a question.

"I knew from the first time you snuck into my room and crawled into my bed in the middle of the night." The words were rife with rage and hate.

"It was you, then?" He asked, pointing to the faint line of stitches in his hairline above the scalp. "Who did this?"

She turned toward the mantle again, and ran her index finger over the unicorn statue. "Yes. I was hoping to kill you, but had a hard time controlling the good doctor, so I had to cut things short. "But," she said turning back to him, "she's under control now." She took a couple steps toward him. "It's time to finish this."

Racing on the freeway toward Richard Hamilton's house, Derek continued trying to convince the skeptical detective of the reality of spirit possession. When a large semi passed them going the other direction, it's light preternaturally bright, Derek grabbed the visor above him and pulled it down. Something dropped down into his lap. He picked it up and examined it.  
Nick, who had also seen it fall, leaned forward from the backseat to see what it was. Derek recognized it first.

"It's a program for Allison Hamilton's viewing."

Both Nick and Lazlo gave him quizzical looks. "What is that doing in my car?" Lazlo asked, voicing the question they were both thinking.

"It was placed here by someone who wants us to know that this is connected to what's happening." Derek answered.

They passed under a streetlight, and as the light danced across the program, Nick pointed excitedly at Allison's picture. "That's it!" he cried. "That's what was different about Rachel's eyes. They were green, that color green." He pointed at the smiling eyes in the picture.

"It looks like our possession theory was right." Derek said, staring into Allison's happy face. "But its not Richard Hamilton who is possessed by the spirit of his brother, its Rachel possessed by the spirit of his daughter."

Lazlo grunted and rolled his eyes.

Derek turned toward him. "Listen detective," He said sharply. "I know it sounds insane, but this is a case of spirit possession. And whether or not you've believed in them up to this point or not, they do happen."

"Okay, let's go by this theory you have. How do we dispossess Dr. Corrigan?"

"Spirits who don't cross over usually stay because of unfinished business." Derek told him. "With Allison Hamilton, I'm sure that unfinished business is revenge against the man who took her life."

"Evan Hamilton."

"Yes. We need to talk to her, convince her that revenge is not the way. That what she does will not bring her peace and will ruin Rachel's life."

Lazlo looked over to him. "Sounds like you've done this before?"

Derek sighed. "More times than I'd rather think about."

"A big need for that in a charitable foundation huh?"

"I think by now you know that's not really what we do." Nick chimed in from the backseat.

Lazlo grunted again. "Yeah, I think I do." He reached for a lever on the dashboard and instantly the red lights spun and the siren sounded. Nick and Derek stared at him. "We're gonna need to get there fast if we want to save your colleague." And with that he thrust his foot to the gas pedal.

_

"How did you do it, Uncle Evan?" Allison asked, using the gun to motion him toward the door. "How did you kill my father and make everyone believe it was you?"

A sardonic grin lifted the corners of his mouth. "Ah, so you don't have it quite a figured out as I thought." He chuckled. "It wasn't your father who died, Allison, It was me." He chuckled again as an expression of shocked realization came over her face. "What, you think you're the only one who can take over another's body?"

"Then where is my father?" she asked, the gun visibly shaking in her hands.

He chuckled again. "Why, he's here with us. He's been here all along."

"You mean..." She started.

"Yes. Every single time, every single moment, he was there. He was appalled and sickened." Evan smiled at the memory.

"Why?"

His smile turned to a grimace. "Because he deserved it!" He hissed. "Since birth I've come second to Richard. All I ever heard growing up was 'why can't you be more like your brother?' He excelled at everything. Academics sports, girls. I was constantly reminded of what a disappointment I was, how I was never as good as St. Richard." His eyes went flat. "The night I killed them I overheard them talking. We each had a trust from our grandfather and Dad wanted to contest mine and make sure they both went to Richard. I couldn't let that happen, so I crept into their room after they were asleep and made sure it wouldn't. Almost got your father out of the way too. But he lived, once again besting me. Until the night I hung myself. I'd planned it all out you see. It was on one of the nights dear Richard came to visit me. I timed it so he would be the one to find me. He had to be, for the plan to work. At least according to the books I read."

Allison remained silent for a moment, digesting what he had told her. "You read psychology books. What could they have told you about that?"

He smiled slowly shaking his head. "I was only seen with psychology books. I had a collection of occult reading that I kept hidden in the trunk in my room. I read those when no one was watching."

A knock on the door interrupted him. Allison looked toward the door. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Evan lunged at her, grabbing for the gun in her hand. The knocking continued. "Richard Hamilton!" A voice roared through the closed door. "This is the police, open the door immediately!"

Allison was caught off guard and when Evan hit her they both tumbled to the floor, and the gun skittered across the entryway floor. She turned onto her stomach and crawled in the direction the gun had gone. Evan grabbed her waist trying to pull her back. The pounding and shouting continued. Kicking wildly, her left foot connected with his face. He cursed, and his hold loosened enough for her to scramble toward the gun. Just as she reached it and curled her fingers around it, the door burst open and Detective Lazlo, Derek and Nick poured into the room.

Allison whirled around gun in hand, pointing it at Evan's head. Derek rushed forward. "Allison, no!"

She stared at him for a moment, searching Rachel's memory for his face.  
"Derek, right? Stay out of this, it has nothing to do with you."

"You are using a good friend of mine to extract a revenge that will cost her her life. I'd say that makes it very much my business."

Allison stood keeping the gun aimed to the monster with her father's face. She spoke, her voice low and tinged with rage. "He deserves to die, to stay dead. You have no idea what he did to me."

"He raped you, impregnated you, then killed you to keep you from revealing him as the father of your child." The gun lowered slightly and Derek took a couple of tentative steps toward her, his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "I understand you want him to pay for that, but will you force Rachel to pay as well?"

"I'm sorry for what I've had to do to her, but it was the only way I could do this." She pulled the gun upward again, her finger firm on the trigger.

Derek continued. "If you do this, Rachel will be the one to pay the price for his death. She has a daughter, a life of her own. Does she deserve to lose it because you lost yours?"

The two locked eyes for a few moments, then Allison spoke. "I can't let him get away with what he did." She moved forward.

"No!" Derek cried, moving forward and tensing with the expectation of gunfire. But none came. He watched in horror as Rachel's eyes rolled upward and her head jerked upward. Her arms fell stiff at her sides and the gun clattered to the floor at her feet. A white mist began swirling up from her head and took Allison's form from the waist up.

Lazlo, who had subdued Evan while Derek talked with Allison stared in wide-eyed horror. "What the hell?"

Nick moved to stand beside him. "So, you convinced yet?" Lazlo nodded dumbly and continued to stare.

Once the spirit was completely removed from her body, Rachel collapsed. Derek rushed to catch her before she hit the floor. With supernatural speed, the spirit rushed toward and into Richard Hamilton's body. Instantly he began convulsing, his eyes also rolling upward. A bright swirling mist surrounded his body and an angry frustrated scream erupted from it. It rose upward and once free from them, he too collapsed, caught by Lazlo. All three men watched in a tense fascination as from the swirling mist of light the faces of Allison and Evan Hamilton appeared before it exploded and vanished.

_

Nick and Derek stood next to the car and watched Richard Hamilton, accompanied by Rachel, place flowers on his daughter's grave.

"I'm sure glad I'm not him." Nick said. "I wouldn't want to have to deal with what he's going to have to deal with."

"I agree." Derek said. "But he has his life back and he has Rachel to help him cope with the worst of it. The fact that he made it out with his sanity in tact is a testament to how much the human spirit can endure and still survive. Through his tragedy he's become a inspiration."

Nick smiled at him. "Always looking for the bright side, eh boss?"

Derek returned the smile. "Just call me Pollyanna."

The End


End file.
